


if i could build a wall around you

by lulsbian



Category: Sonic the Hedgehog (2020)
Genre: Autistic Robotnik, M/M, This was gonna be a one shot, Touch-Starved, and ill probably grow out of the ship before i can finish it, but if i write it long, i actually feel obligated to finish it :D, im so tempted to call this 'and everytime we touch' but im not. im not guys im n., its gonna take so long to finish, not beta read because im very insecure about writing this, slow-burn, so ghruhraajghgjh, so hopefully by making it multi-chaptered
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:15:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22855336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lulsbian/pseuds/lulsbian
Summary: nobody has touched dr. robotnik since he was a kid. he doesn't know what he's waiting for.
Relationships: Dr. Eggman | Dr. Robotnik/Agent Stone
Comments: 29
Kudos: 265





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> im a lesbian i shouldn't enjoy jimbotnik so much but also i just think he's evil and thats neat.
> 
> thanks for reading this! please let me know if i have fucked any of this up. the longer i waited to write this the more the actual characterization slips out of my brain sponge.
> 
> also to any of my friends reading: fine you can make fun of me. its fair honestly. its fair.
> 
> follow me on twitter: @nullinteger
> 
> also im not checking to see if anyone else has used this line from evil grows so if they have then Whoops

It’s not that he was lonely, it’s just that he didn’t need the contact. 

Even as a kid, (and while most of his childhood is repressed and blocked out, only vague paint blotches for anything resembling a memory) he recalls flinching and refusing the slightest bit of touch. He’s sure a teacher or someone said that his caretakers should see if it’s a larger, deeply-rooted issue. Ivo, instead, took it in as a number in a plethora of examples of how unnecessary humans are.

So, when he gets older, he works alone. Technically, he was working for the government, but physically, he had very little interaction. 

He builds attack drones with a sleek, white design. They have a glossy finish, the strongest processors that ransom can buy, etc. Fundamentally, they were perfect, obedient. They had no personality. They followed the ever-present simplicity of modern-day logos. Emotionless, dull, colorless. He understands why they’re designed in that way, but he can’t help but find their lack of personality a larger issue with humanity as a whole.

When he’s got time to himself, (which has become rarer and rarer, he tries to throw himself into his work whenever he can. Having nothing to do for someone else means having to think about what you want for yourself) he designs his own robots. They’re based off of real animals, ladybugs and crabs and bees and stuff. They’re a bit more efficient than the government drones, but he never informs the government about the tech behind them, scared that they’ll take them away. Not that he cares, of course. Even when he names them and pets them after programming their own touch-sensitivity, he doesn’t care at all. He doesn’t _ Love _ them. And he’ll send a blazing hell against anyone who thinks he does. 

_ God _ , he thinks, looking at the black coffee on his desk, cold from hours of neglect, _ I really am lonely. _ He takes a sip, trying his hardest to enjoy the bitterness he’s supposed to relate to.

After a year or so of working with the army, he’s forcefully assigned a ‘partner’, someone to help him with his projects.

“We believe that having someone else to aid you in your technological endeavors will allow you to complete commissions faster and more efficiently.” The email reads.

“Bullshit,” he wants to reply. “You’re scared of me. You’re scared because you know I’m smarter than all of you and you’ve given me too much power. You want a devil looming over my soldier because you know that if I’m by myself, I’ll do what's best and eradicate all of you poor bastards and I’ll rule the world by myself.”

He replies, “If you insist. Send them my way.”

It’s a nice summer day when his assigned agent shows up at the door to his van, unprompted. He’s a well-groomed lad, Robotnik noticed, as clean, pristine, and emotionless as all of the government's little lackeys.

“Hello, Doctor Robotnik. I am Agent Stone, but you can call me whatever you wish. I’m your agent and assistant for the time being. You don’t have to worry about paying me, I’m alrea-”

Robotnik rolled his eyes, “I wish you weren’t here.”

The dumb man looks at him flabbergasted. “I, well, I-”

He grumbled. “I know you’re legally required to work here. Just, shut up and fade into the background. I have no use for someone who will do little more that  _ fuck my work up. _ ” He hissed.

“I’ll make sure to do that, doctor.” He smiled, so diligently. He held out his hand for a handshake.

Robotnik stared at the hand, the concept of someone being able to be so open with themselves, not only allowing but _hoping_ for the harsh needles of skin-on-skin contact. It disgusted him, a useless, forgettable, brainless human thinking he was worthy of being together to the point of atoms colliding with his genius brain. But also, he swallowed it down, he hadn’t felt anyone else in such a long time, he almost wanted to take it, see if he could handle what should be so simple, what he’s suppose to do as a dumb human himself, he-

“I, that’s fine. No need to shake. May I come in, doctor?” Stone itched the back of his neck.

He forgot that he had just been standing there as his thoughts ran around. “I suppose you may.”

And for the first time that he can recall, he’s got to focus on another person existing near him.  _ Hopefully he leaves me alone,  _ Robotnik thinks,  _ hopefully he doesn’t. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the first time was bad

After a month of having Agent Stone around to help him, Robotnik can’t say that he’s been let down at all.

Yet he can’t say he’s particularly  _ thrilled, _ either.

Which, yes, maybe it’s his own fault for setting rules in place that he might not have entirely wanted, snapping at even the slightest mishap, but he knew that if he didn’t, he’d get complacent.

Stone though, Stone was an enigma. He took the verbal beatings easier than anyone he’s ever ranted to before. He seemed to know his place, which was great. Everything was fine.

Stone didn’t do much for the first week, was literally told to just “stand there, make yourself indistinguishable,” but as Robotnik realized that  _ no,  _ the agent was  _ not  _ going to vanish into thin air, he figured that he’d get some use out of him.

The first time was bad.

Robotnik was designing a new prototype, his machines seeming to come in and out of obsolescence faster than he can make them. Not that he minds, at the root of it all, he loves tinkering and creating these robots. They’re so useless, one would think, until someone with true power uses them. It’s fascinating. This model, a simple turret, was designed to fire upwards of 200 rounds a second. Of course, fitting in that much ammo into such a tiny thing is an issue in and of itself.

“Stone, grab my hex-head screwdrivers.” He overthinks the use of his words sometimes. Since, at the end of the day, Stone is human, should he be asking? Should he ask if Stone will grab them, or should he command, just like he always has with his machine.

Stone normally would say “Here you go, doctor!” or something of the sort, but he skips over that detail this time, seemingly on auto-pilot. Apparently, making mistakes is a part of being human. So he taps on Robotnik’s back, and he  _ jerks _ forward, dropping the turret, the unsecured components smashing to the ground, tiny bullets all making their own individual high-pitched, loathsome, overwhelming  _ bing-bing-bing-bing  _ noises and he covers his ears, it’s all too much.

He wants to think, tell himself that it was an honest mistake, but the overwhelmed, outraged part of himself is already shouting before he gets the chance.

“I’m so sorry, Doctor, I didn’t mean to-”

“You  _ imbecile!  _ I never wanted you here in the first place, and look at what you do! You do nothing but interrupt my work and destroy my workflow! You, all of you foolish humans, making mistakes that ruin my mathematically precise and formulaically laid out projects! How dare you think you can go around, putting your  _ filthy hands  _ on me! I-”

As his mouth ran off, what he didn’t expect was Stone’s look of  _ empathy,  _ rather than one of shame. Stone stood, taking the verbal lashings, even as Robotnik wishes he could stop them himself, but he seemed, at least, a little bit, to understand.

You can’t program a machine to understand like that.

“I- sorry, Stone.” Robotnik muttered. “Even I’ll admit that I got carried away.”  _ An understatement,  _ he thinks.

“No, sir, I didn’t mean to. I messed up on how I normally worked with you. It’s my bad.”

Robotnik could take that. “Yeah, it is your bad, I presume.”

“Is there anything I can do to help with the mess, doctor?” And he knew, yes, that’s Stone’s job, but he can’t help but have his stomach twist at how kind he was being despite all of this.

“Hm, if you could collect the bullets, that’ll be great.”

“Will do.”

And as the  _ rattle, rattle, rattle  _ of metal being collected against each other played while Robotnik looked to see if there was any damage to the sleek exterior, he thinks about how he’s messed up his first chance to try to connect with someone else in a long, long time.

“I’ll do better next time,” he whispers under his breath, quiet enough so that Stone doesn’t hear him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, writing slow-burns: ghrhahhhahHGHGFDJGHGFG just KIS already  
> me, to myself: you have that power. you're the one writing it  
> me: fuck you
> 
> im scared my characterization is all over the place but... what can ya do.
> 
> my twitter and tumblr are @nullinteger. caution that i dont post much there related because im a coward.


	3. Chapter 3

The gloves are actually Stone’s idea, believe it or not.

“Sir, I notice that you fumble with your hands a lot,” he spoke out while standing by as Robotnik drew out some blueprints.

“Ah yes, another symptom of my debilitating disability known as being human, Stone.”

He clears his throat, “I think that could be neat in instances where you need to manually control any machines you have.”

Robotnik’s eyebrows raised as he turned around, looking directly* at Stone.

(*”Directly” isn’t quite true, he learned a trick a lot time ago, staring at the bridge between the nose and the eyes [glabella] tricks most dumb enough not to notice into believing they’re making eye contact, as equals, rather than the truth he hid, that the genius Dr. Ivo Robotnik was always three steps ahead of any imbecile.)

“Elaborate.”

“Well, like, if you want a specific drone, or a set number of drones, to go 50 meters, you could like,” he’s fumbling with his hands. He taps the palm twice, then drags his thumb over his ring finger. Robotnik can see himself in the gesture, even if it's all wiggly and entirely, 100% wrong.

“That’s  _ brilliant,  _ Stone!”

“I- what?” He looks genuinely shocked.

Robotnik  _ swooshes  _ the boring blueprints out of the way, already trying to sketch out a general design for the gloves. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Stone trying to grab the discarded papers out of the air.

“Don’t you see? This is a great idea for being able to secretly activate drones at my need! And,  _ oh, _ I can have different keybindings for my different needs! You’re a  _ genius,  _ Stone!”

Stone’s blushing, “It was just a suggestion, Doctor, I’m not as smart as-”

“Oh, bullshit! I couldn’t have thought of this, what, when most of those who work with me can’t look out of the box to save their goddamn lives!” His hands steeple. “And I could control  _ music  _ with this, and  _ nobody  _ would scoff at me for my fidgeting if they know it could be their demise!”

Again, Stone looks genuinely shocked. “People make fun of you for messing with your hands?”

“People are stupid, Stone.”

“People are  _ dicks!  _ So what if you mess with your hands, what’s it matter to them?”

“People hide their own differences by laughing at those of other people. You get used to it.”

“You shouldn’t  _ have  _ to, though!”

Robotnik sighed, swiveling his chair away from his blueprints to look at Stone. “Why does it matter to you, anyways? You take all of my lashings, surely hearing that I receive some as well should be gratifying to you.”

Stone choked. “I, I don't know, sir. It’s different. I don’t mind it, I was  _ trained  _ to deal with verbal backlash, but you, you’re-”

“Sensitive. I’m sensitive.”

He put a hand to his head, groaning in frustration. “That’s not what I mean! It’s just, I’ve noticed that you haven't wanted to talk or do anything when we met, but seeing you genuinely excited like this, it makes me realize how much more you are than just a brain, doctor.”

“Another part of my ‘humanity’ disorder, surely I’ll get it figured out eventually.”

Stone looks like he wants to argue against this, Robotnik can tell that he’s on edge, but he instead sighs. “Just, look, come out of your shell more, alright? It’s nice to see you like this, doc.”

Robotnik’s out of words, which should be impossible for someone of his intellect. “I, uhhhh, I…” There’s a twisting, gnawing feeling in his gut. “I, thanks, Stone. I should have a prototype of the gloves by tomorrow if I’m lucky.”

Stone grinned, “I’m excited to see them.”

As Stone walked away, assumedly into the kitchen of the coach, Robotnik couldn’t help but fester in that pit that replaced his stomach, trying to convince himself that it was bad, that he should only be focusing on his work, that this was the exact problem with human collision in his projects. But yet that pit that he thought was full of malicious intent only flew around, making him blush and smile.  _ Maybe _ , he thinks, recalling Stone’s smile,  _ maybe there’s some positives to being human. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> agent stone be like I dont Think allistic people deserve rights
> 
> on god im actually writing this so fast why is this the thing that instills my creative writing i have so many other fics i meant to write. i had to much to say. but instead im just. hooby.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> stobotnik bitches be like: lets overthink fuckin coffee

“Sir?”

It had been a year now since Agent Stone was forcibly assigned to Dr. Robotnik to keep the scientist at bay. And, while having to deal with another human had him down and scared at the beginning, he soon started to enjoy having Stone around.

“Yes, Stone?”

“I have a question, if I may ask it,” he said, hands tucked diligently behind his back. The longer Robotnik had to spend time with Stone in the same space, the longer he began to analyze and absorb all of the fascinating details about him. Compared to the doctor, he always stood straight, tall and proud. His hair always had such an even, perfected fade; Robotnik wondered if that was of his own doing or the government’s. In fact, every part of him was symmetrical, so meticulously crafted, he was, frankly, beautiful. And Robotnik tries to shut up his brain after that.

“Go ahead.”

“Not that I mind,” he sounds like he minds, “but why don’t you ever finish the coffee I bring you?”

He looked to his left, where three cups of black coffee sat, sad little cups of room-temperature void.

Robotnik grumbles. “I don’t know. I don’t think I ever liked coffee.”

“You??? Doctor, you-”

“ _ I know,  _ I know, I ask it of you and then I never finish it. Surely, my hubris will catch up to me at some point.”

The agent chuckled at that, and it made Robotnik warm inside, like he was overheating.

Stone pulled up a chair next to his desk and sat down next to him. “What do you like in your coffee? Am I making it wrong?”

Robotnik didn’t look up from his work, “I don’t  _ know,  _ Stone. I’ve never really put anything in my coffee before.”   
Stone lifts himself up from the table. “You’ve  _ what?” _

Robotnik starts to speak, but is silenced, “Doc, that’s insane!”

“We’re talking about who the insane one here is?” he mutters under his breath.

Stone’s hands seem to wander all over the place, for a second almost looking like they were about to find their home on Robotnik’s shoulders. They end up on the desk. “I’ve got to make you something!” He looks so happy at the idea of this. “Paying for community college, I worked at a little cafe down my street. I don’t know why, but it always really stuck with me.”

“You went to community college?” Robotnik wasn’t thinking about that at all, he was imagining a younger Stone, fresh outta high school, in a little cap and apron, always so happy, so assiduous, the doctor shoved the thoughts down.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s what was best for my family at the time. I didn’t really have that much money growing up, honestly.”

“Huh.”

“I mean, it’s fine now, what, with the federal work, I’m just glad it's enough to pay for both my apartment and my parents’ house.” He moved quickly as he talked, grabbing a cup and settling it near the coffee maker (“Robotnik’s Mean Bean Machine,” it’s titled on a sticky note.) as he did  _ God knows what  _ with it.

“I didn’t really have parents,” Robotnik muttered.

“Hm?” Stone’s eyebrows rise, but he’s still focused on making the coffee.

“Was an orphan, don’t know what happened to my birth parents. Got traded around the foster care program like it was the Silk Road.” He sighed, “Ended up with some family who didn’t give a shit, was mainly ‘taking care’ of kids for tax cuts. House was a dump, don’t know how anyone decided that place was livable.”

Robotnik put his head in his hands, trying to shove down the parasite that was trying to make him cry. “I built a pipe bomb, just some rusted water pipe and gunpowder with a timed fuse. I knew I liked building things, making them mine.” His voice burned in his throat, “I just remember feeling avenged, that’s all. Most things after that are a blur.”

Stone looks  _ scarred,  _ staring at Robotnik as he pours his coffee, and he’s regretting spilling his mouth now in a moment of weakness that shouldn’t have invaded him in the first place. He cleared his throat. “But, hey, you don’t become a being with such high intellect without a bit of childhood trauma, as they always say. How’s the coffee?”  _ God, this is embarrassing, this is why I don’t work with humans. _

The agent walks over, putting down the cup next to him. “It’s my personal favorite, a latte with steamed Austrian goat milk. It’s not the most complex thing, but I hope you find it as enjoyable as I do, sir.” He’s smiling, but Robotnik can’t read if it’s genuine.

He huddles his hands around the mug. They’re shaking, a bit, and he just lets the warmth radiating from the cup kindle them. When he’s ready, and he’s not sure if he’ll ever be truly ready, he takes a sip.

“How is it, sir?” Stone asks, his eyebrows dipped.

“It’s alright.”

“You finished it in one sip,” he laughs.

“It’s alright,” Robotnik laughs too.

“Want me to make you another one?” He picks up the empty mug.

“I’m certainly not opposed to it!”

Stone smiles, “I’m really glad you like it.” He pours another cup.

And when he goes to put it down, Robotnik goes to take it from him, and his hand overlaps Stone’s, and both of them look shocked, Stone impressively so, and the warmth of the coffee radiates, but not as much as the warmth coming from inside Robotnik’s chest.

And they just  _ stand there,  _ two hands touching on the mug, and it doesn’t Hurt, and he takes a chance to make eye contact with Stone, not the kind that a prey animal uses when they see a predator and don’t want their hungry eyes to be the last thing they see before they die, but  _ true  _ eye contact, and he sees the  _ light  _ in Stone’s eyes, and he thinks, then and there,  _ that’s the light I want to work towards,  _ and it’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright.

It’s Stone that takes his hand off, in the end. “Here you go, Doc,” he says, and his smile is just the tiniest bit brighter.

And it’s alright. It’s alright. It’s alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> end scene was really inspired by [flucoze's art!](https://flucoze.tumblr.com/post/190994804847/imagine-that-dr-robotnik-is-super-touch-starved) if they want me to take this down/rewrite it to avoid similarities just lmk.
> 
> im really proud of this one and i would have it be the end but i also want a full blown cuddle so we not ending tonight boyz!!!!
> 
> i hope yall enjoy it im :D


End file.
